The Day My Fiddle Leaf Fig Raised an Eyebrow
We all have them, right? Those moments where you catch your pet giving you the side-eye, silently questioning your life choices. Well, last week, I swear my fiddle leaf fig, Ferdinand, did the same. It was one of those mornings – you know the kind – mismatched socks, coffee breath, frantically searching for my keys. As I pivoted in a whirlwind of chaos, I caught Ferdinand’s shadow in my peripheral vision. And let me tell you, that shadow was definitely judging my morning scramble.
Ever since that moment, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that Ferdinand is silently critiquing my every move. Don’t believe me? Let me present the evidence.
And the worst part? Once I do remember to water him, I can practically hear the internal monologue: “About time. Honestly, the nerve of some people, letting a perfectly good plant get so parched.” Okay, maybe I’m projecting a bit, but the judgment is palpable!
Exhibit B: The Curious Case of the Dropped Croissant Crumb
I’ll admit, I have a tendency to be a bit messy. Crumbs on the counter, clothes on the floor – you know, the usual signs of a life lived to the fullest (or at least that’s what I tell myself). But Ferdinand seems to have a sixth sense for my messy habits. One time, I dropped a stray croissant crumb near his pot (okay, maybe it was more than one crumb, but who’s counting?).
Later that day, I swear I caught him leaning ever so slightly towards the fallen crumbs, leaves rustling as if sighing in exasperation. It was as if he was saying, “Really? Again? Must you turn my humble abode into a breadcrumb wasteland?” The judgment was real, my friends. Real and slightly terrifying.
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